


Identity Thief

by httpstiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Stiles, Kidnapping, Shapeshifter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpstiles/pseuds/httpstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been acting strange and Scott notices something off about his scent.</p><p>Or</p><p>the one time Scott finds out Stiles isn't actually Stiles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Identity Thief

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally deleted this so I'm reposting!

It was suppose to be a nice day at the lake, a Pack day, except for Derek and Peter who'd refused and stayed at Derek's loft to do research.

It was like Stiles was purposely trying to get on Scott's bad side today. He'd been like this yesterday, too. But now it'd become annoying and Scott could only think  _twat_  when he thought of how Stiles was acting. The boy had done nothing but make rude jokes (dog jokes that just aren't appropriate) to him and the pack all day. But not only was he rude to the werewolves of the pack, but to Allison and Lydia too. The two girls had chosen to ignore him, but Scott was curious as to what was going on. 

At the end of the day was when Scott caught the smell. Stiles was running to his jeep when the wind picked up and, yes he’s smelled Stiles scent (all too familiar with it), but he also smelled something odd with it. When Stiles opened the jeep is when the putrid smell dominated the scent of Stiles, and Scott knew something was up. 

So he went to Derek.

 

"And you know," Scott drifted off in explaining his day to Derek. "It's not like Stiles to be like that."

"You mean sarcastic and witty with dog jokes. Yes, Scott. So  _not_ Stiles," Peter had responded.

"But that's not the weirdest part!" Scott shouted. "I'm being serious. He has this weird smell when he was walking to his jeep and I wanted to throw up at how bad his jeep smelled. And I know how Stiles' jeep smells. That's not it.  _God_ , it smelled like rotting flesh." Derek shot his head up from the large book that'd been in his hands. Peter's ears perked, too, and Scott knew that they knew something. 

"What?" Scott tried. "Don’t just leave me out of this silent understanding of the bigger picture," Scott sighed exasperated, almost flailing his arms around like Stiles would have. 

"Did Stiles look sick at all today? Maybe even the smallest fever?" Derek asked.

"No, why?" Peter sighed and leaned back in his chair, muttering  _'Yep, definitely not Stiles'_ under his breath.

"Call the rest of the pack," was all Derek replied before quickly swiping away page after page in a new book he'd grabbed from the table. " _Now!_ " Derek's eyes glowed red and Scott heard a low growl vibrate his bones. He nodded and pulled out his phone fast. 

Before Scott could dial anyone, his phone rang and the Caller ID surprised him.

"Hello?" Scott answered.

"Scott?"

"Yeah. Is something wrong?" 

"I'm really hoping that I'm just over thinking everything because he's probably with you, but Stiles hasn't been home since the night before last. Please tell me he's with you."

 

Stiles wasn't sure where he was, but he knew his situation wasn't good. Whatever it was was back now and he couldn't do much considering he was tied, gagged, and left in an old bathtub. 

The thing came walking in to the bathroom and it looked like it could be his twin, except for the fact that the face looked like it was tearing, blood dripping from openings in the face. Quickly, the thing's clothes were off and its hands reached for its back and clawed. Blood oozed out of the cuts and skin dropped to the floor in heaps. Stiles wanted to puke at the sight and smell of it all. 

Underneath the layers of what appeared to be Stiles' skin, goo, rather than blood, appeared over pale skin. More skin dropped as the creature pried it off its body like it'd been a costume. Stiles winced at the sight of the thing ripping off its face. Where there should have been a nose on a human, the creature had one opening and its mouth opened in a hiss. Sharp teeth replaced ones that matched Stiles' as they fell. As the new ones came in, the same goo that seemed to be covering its skin ripped from the corners of its mouth.

"Hmm," the creature hummed with a sort of voice that reminded him of a talking snake. "Seems like the skin almost died on me out there today. It's a good thing I have you as my little replenisher." The creature stuck the pale gooey hand out and caressed Stiles' face. Stiles shut his eyes tight and tried to ignore the cold touch that sent chills up his spine. 

"Come, come." The creature picked up Stiles almost like he weighed nothing. His impact on the ground reminded him that he did, in fact, weigh more than 150 pounds and smacked his head on the concrete. Stiles groaned around the gag, which had probably become the most uncomfortable thing about his situation. The gag was a thick, but just thin enough, rope with a knot tied in the middle to keep him from talking. Basically, Stiles wouldn't have minded the gag (in given situation) if had been material or something else for crying out loud. The rope rubbed raw against the corners of his mouth.

A slice across his cheek brought Stiles out of his thoughts. The creature leaned next to him on the floor, climbing over the boy into a straddling position. 

"Can you believe it?" The creature asked tauntingly. "I've been you for two days now and they still don't know." The thing made another small slice along his jaw line and Stiles couldn't gather enough of himself to hold back the tears brought from the physical pain. Because he knew someone had noticed it wasn't him. Someone had to have noticed that the thing wasn't Stiles at all. He didn't dare let the thought of his friends not caring about him come to mind because they'd all saved each other more than once. In fact, Stiles had done more saving than any of them ever had. 

One again, Stiles thoughts were interrupted with an unwanted touch. This time, a tongue grazed over Stiles cheek, wiping away the trickles of blood. 

"Since you weren't conscious the first time it happened, I guess I can explain it now." The now not gooey hands trailed up Stiles' shirt and rested on top of his ribs, where a dull pain radiated. He realized, now, that they were cuts, probably like the ones on his cheek. "The intake of your blood isn't a necessary thing, but it gives me your scent. Hides the rotting scent that werewolves can smell, probably even you can smell it now."

The hand of the creature moved its way to Stiles' neck, grasping it tightly. Two nails punctured into his neck and the thing smiled down with its nefarious teeth. "This is how I become you."

Stiles could literally feel all energy he'd managed to keep in him the past day and a half, without food and water, drain out of him. His vision blurred and his body trembled, suddenly feeling cold. 

 

"Damn it," the thing mutters.

In front of Scott and the rest of the pack, the Shape shifter looked up. When Derek had described what it was and what it did, he hadn't expected this sight. 

"Let him go," Derek growled from a full wolfed out form.

"I was just having some fun," the creature replied in a taunting voice. Scott could hear Stiles' heartbeat pick up and looked to him on the ground. He was visibly shaking; of fear or something else was unknown. 

Isaac must have heard to because he was ready to advance on the Shape shifter in a second, but Derek beat him to it. The claws went straight through the abdomen of the creature, but in return, it merely looked up at Derek and pushed him off, making him fly backwards. Scott and Isaac charged forward at the same time but the collision with the thing only sent it back a step. 

Scott and Isaac clawed up at the same time; one went across the Shape shifter’s face and the other its neck. It didn't do much, but it was definitely enough to set it off guard. That was all Derek needed to come and rip its throat out, with his teeth.

 

As soon as each of Stiles' restraints was removed, Scott had a solid arm around him and pulled Stiles up.

"Can you walk?" Stiles tried to nod but then grimaced at a headache forming. 

"No," he rasped out. Scott nodded and pulled Stiles up into a bridal style hold.

"Let's get you home," Derek said.

**

The sight of his son makes him weak in the knees. 

Stiles' face is littered with cuts, a bruise, and the corners of his lips have been rubbed raw. Sheriff doesn't want to assume (he does anyway), but he guesses that it's from a sort of gag. He'd seen it before in kidnap victims. He doesn't want to know what his wrists or ankle look like under the bandages or what his other injuries are. He just wants to ignore it all and be here for his son. 

Well, he can't ignore an unreadable Derek Hale sitting next to Stiles' bed. There's a sharp inhale from the Sheriff when he realizes this must have been a supernatural thing. 

_"Stiles, we need to talk about this. You **run**  with wolves."_

_"I can't run with them, dad. They're too fast."_

_"Damn it, Stiles, you are missing my point. I talked to Derek and he straight out told me that being a part of his pack is dangerous for a human. You could die Stiles."_

_"I'm more aware than you realize, dad. I really am," he says irritated. "Do you know how many times I have almost died?! And before you say anything, you should know that I am most of the reason Scott even made it **this**  far."_

"What was it?" Sheriff asks after a few moments.

"A shape shifter."  
"Like you?"  
"No. This thing was different. I've only come across it once or twice before. It drains parts of Stiles' energy and becomes him. It's a longer process than you think; it needs to grow the skin first."

"And how exactly did you not know this thing wasn't Stiles?"  
"He had his scent and his knowledge. The longer it was Stiles, the more his memories were transferred. And the cuts were to ingest his blood, that gave him Stiles' scent, but it started to fade when his skin started to rot, because after some hours it gets old, and that's what Scott smelled." Derek never looked at Sheriff and that's when Sheriff noticed Derek's hand gripping Stiles'.

"Where exactly is Scott?"  
"He's making a statement. We need some story as to why he showed up at the hospital like this. He was reported missing but found by us."

"Well, what exactly is Scott going to s-" Sheriff stopped talking and looked at Stiles. His lips started to move and there was a heavy sigh. His eyes didn't open, but he was waking up.

 

"D- Derek, hey," Stiles smiled weakly and gripped Derek's hand a little tighter. “You know you don't need to be doing your little werewolf mojo on me. Just a little sore, no bad pain."

"But it will help and you know it," Derek argued. "Shut up and let me help." Sheriff was lost.

"What is he talking about?" Derek looked at Sheriff for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"He's pack," Derek said simply. "He's hurt so I'm taking away whatever pain I can to help." Stiles chose this moment to open his eyes and roll them.

"And you're getting pale for doing it too long, Hale. You need to st- hey that rhymed. But you really need to stop." Derek hesitated, but let go of Stiles' hand and at that moment a loud puff of air escaped Derek, as if he'd been in pain.

"What happens now?" the Sheriff asked.

"Unfortunately, the thing was Stiles for a reason, not for fun. It probably has a companion it was with that will strike again. The only difference is that we will be prepared next time around.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Unless anyone can give an idea for how to continue this, there will be NO continuation because I've gone through various scenarios in my head and couldn't come up with one that had a nice ending. Sorry x


End file.
